


turn me to gold in the sunlight

by nagatha_christie



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Enthusiastic Consent, Fit Dancer Bods, Insecurity, Intimacy, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, New Relationship Energy, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Safer Sex, Security, Sensuality, Sex Positive, Tender Sex, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 11:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17223089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagatha_christie/pseuds/nagatha_christie
Summary: Mesh squirms, letting out a wordless, desperate whine. Mesh grabs Nick’s fingers, the same fingers that’d been inside him moments ago, stilling his hand.“Come on,” he says softly. “I want you.”Those three little words are enough to take Nick’s breath away. Whathewants to do is go into a tailspin. But what he does is say, “Why? You’ve got another social engagement?”“No…” Mesh says, cheeky, the corners of his mouth turning up. “But it would be nice.”Nick softens, his belly fluttering. “I could do, yeah.”





	turn me to gold in the sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> so nick and mesh have been a LOT lately, and i felt super, ahem, inspired by these [ two ](http://fuckyeahclique.tumblr.com/post/181513124124/hello-911-via-nicholasgrimshaw) [ videos](http://misowithlizo.tumblr.com/post/181645181036) from their romantic lil holiday. writing shmoopy, smushy nick/mesh smut with feelings was def a welcome respite from the massive gryles fic i've been working on for two years, so s/o to the maldives trip. you're the real MVP here. 
> 
> light content warning: some allusions to sexual boundaries being crossed in the past. proceed with caution + take care of yourself.
> 
> this was all written on a whim, un-beta'd, etc. title is from a florence & the machine song. 
> 
> (also, if you are in this fic or know anybody in this fic, kindly hit the backspace as asap as possible, thanks)
> 
> enjoy, pals!! xx

The lamp in their luxurious hotel suite is flickering, and it’s distracting—but not distracting enough. Three fingers deep in Mesh’s arse, and Nick wouldn’t stop if the whole place was aflame. Or so he thinks.

“Yeah, that’s it, open me _right_ up,” Mesh says, softly urging. In the warm lamplight, he’s golden, sunkissed, beautiful. Every gloomy London day forgotten with just one easy day of sunning, flirting, kissing. It’s all been leading up to this.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you,” Nick says, the words spilling from his lips, easy and natural as the beating sun on their beachside pool overlooking the sea. All day warming them bone-deep, radiant and always there.

Mesh is sprawled out on his back, clutching the pillow under his head, his other hand half-concealing his face as he moans into the twist of Nick’s hand, fingers brushing the bump of his prostate. Mesh writhes, his legs trembling.

And then his foot springs out and hits Nick square in the ribs. A pleasure spasm. Cute.

“Fucking hell,” Nick mutters and huffs a laugh, his hand rubbing the spot and then steadying Mesh’s foot with a firm hold on his ankle.

“Sorry, love,” Mesh says. Shit-eating grin and all.

Nick grins. “You’re not.”

“I am, a little.” Mesh pouts.

"Yeah,” Nick snorts.

Mesh huffs a laugh, too, and his arsehole clenches around Nick’s fingers. It’s as much a reflex as the leg spasm, Nick knows, but fuck if it doesn’t make his cock jump, heavy and eager.

Nick catches sight of that lamp, again, flickering every few seconds. It’s making his eye twitch.

“Can you just—“ Nick gestures with his free hand to the blasted thing. Mesh’s side, because of course. Menaces, the both of them.

Mesh turns to look. He’s still smiling. “What?”

“It’s ruining the ambience.”

“Me kicking you in the ribs ruined the ambience,” Mesh says. “That there is just shoddy wiring for the hotel. Probs a weak connection.”

“A proper electrician now, are you?”

“Fuck off.” Mesh grins.

“Can you, please? Just try.”

Mesh rolls his eyes. “Alright.”

“You want me to pull my fingers out?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You were just finding your rhythm.”

“I can get it _back_.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have another half-hour for you to find it again.”

"Prick." Nick laughs. “You’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Stay,” Mesh says, and that’s that.

Mesh gives a half-hearted attempt to humour Nick, he does, stretching over for the lamp switch while keeping the lower half of his body still. He doesn’t even come close to reaching it, his fingers fumbling and then waggling at Nick, teasing. Mesh flops back on the bed, arm bent behind his head.

All this with practically Nick’s whole hand inside him.

“It’s disgusting how graceful you are,” Nick says.

“Told you I’m good. Flexibility comes in handy.”

“Not flexible enough, though.” Nick frowns and looks back at that lamp, standing bold next to his man. It flickers even more aggressively, mocking him.

“Come on, it’s like three feet away,” Mesh says. “I wasn’t ever going to reach it.”

Nick looks at the lamp a moment more, his free hand tapping his hip. He runs his hand over his buzzcut; it doesn’t soothe him the way the quiff did.

“It’s really bothering you?” Mesh says.

Nick bites his lip. “‘It’s distracting.”

“Okay.” Mesh sighs, quieter this time.

“You’re ready and prepped anyway, I think.”

“We passed ready a while ago; this was just for kicks and giggles.”

“Low blow,” Nick says, and laughs, relieved to have that pesky lamp accounted for. He says, “Here, hold still a second.”

Nick slides his fingers out gently, grabbing Mesh’s hip for purchase. He peels off the glove and tosses it away, landing somewhere in the expanse of the huge bed’s rumpled sheets.

Looking down at him, Mesh is all soft edges and bright smiles and he’s so, so beautiful. Nick can’t resist leaning down and nuzzling Mesh’s hip, the lower part of his stomach quivering under his lips, despite being unreasonably taut and muscular. There's no scratch of his stubble against Mesh, just stretches of soft skin for him to rub his cheek against.

“Talk about getting distracted...” Mesh sighs and runs his hand over Nick’s forearm, his strokes making Nick’s hair stand on-end, electric. Mesh puts his hand over Nick’s and squeezes.

"Mm, you’re right,” Nick says, with one last nuzzle, one last inhale of Mesh’s sweet, chlorine-laced skin. He’s got other business to take care of.

Nick gets up and marches over to the other side of the bed. He fiddles with all the wonky knobs and switches, but all he manages to do is switch on another dreadful setting.

“This is so much worse.” Nick groans. “Getting too old for strobes. Blinding.”

“This is nice,” Mesh says. “Proper ravey.”

Mesh snuffles a laugh, and Nick looks over his shoulder to see Mesh with his cheek propped up on both his hands, watching the show.

“What if I _liked_ it?” Mesh says, cackling now. “Like, what if I wouldn’t shag in any light except strobes?”

“I’d dump you,” Nick says. “In a heartbeat.”

Mesh rolls onto his back and cackles even louder. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m not kidding,” Nick says, a grin emerging even as he fights it.

Mesh is wiping actual tears from his eyes. He manages to say, “Try hitting it.”

“Give it a good slap, is it?”

“That’s my go-to solution.”

Nick raises his eyebrows. “We’ll have to revisit that later, won’t we.”

Nick turns back to the lamp and whacks it with his palm, looking straight at Mesh for his brilliant input. Blessedly, the patterns stop.

“Oh, thank God,” Nick sighs.

“Now the real fun can begin,” Mesh says.

“I think you were having some fun already,” Nick says, smirking. He climbs back onto the bed, back to Mesh, hovering above him on his hands and knees. His pendant dangles down, and Mesh runs his finger over the delicate chain, and then underneath it, right along Nick’s throat. Nick’s breath catches.

“Yes, but not all the fun,” Mesh says. “I want _all_ the fun.”

“Greedy one.” Nick grins.

“You know it.” Mesh leans up and kisses him, holding his face as their lips touch. Mesh has the _most_ lush mouth, pouty and pretty and eager.

Mesh runs his hand over Nick’s buzzcut and Nick shudders like a leaf. It’s been ages since he’s had a proper buzz, but he’d never forgotten the pleasure of having hands scratching along the prickles. The facialist was the closest he’d got to that pleasure since that last buzz.

Just kissing, and Nick can feel his cock start to stir again, his face flushing as he takes hold of it, running his thumb along the seam of his foreskin. It’s so sensitive that he shudders again, moaning into Mesh’s mouth. Mesh bites his bottom lip, tugging hard and then releasing; pleasure blooms in Nick’s chest, his breath catching in his throat once more.

Mesh pulls away, looks at Nick under heavy lids, and Nick _knows_.

Nick grabs Mesh’s shoulders and pushes him onto his back; his shoulders are firm, perfectly toned like ocean-worn beach stones. Like gems. He’s stronger than he seems.

“Hey, careful, fragile goods here,” Mesh grouses softly.

“Here—“ Nick breathes, stuttering out for a second before taking a shaky breath. He grabs the rubbers scattered beside him and stretches one on, rolling it down, his hands still unsteady. “Bring your legs up, yeah?”

Obediently, Mesh folds his knees to his chest, and Nick settles between his knees, his own cock throbbing, his face hot. Nick’s chest hair is matted with sweat, both his hands twitching. There’s a clammy cold sweat on the back of his neck, mingling with the full-body heat of arousal.

Nick holds his cock, guiding, and shifts his hips forward. He’s holding his breath, still. This feels utterly right, though, and he’s grounded in the moment, his entire focus set on going slow. He lets out a big slow breath and Mesh does, too, the press of his heels on Nick’s lower back urging him forward and making him dizzy with desire, wanting to plunge deep into him.

And then Nick catches those big brown doe eyes, and feels Mesh’s hand on his shoulder, sweeping across the back of his neck; the last thing he wants to do is hurt him, even by accident.

(Fuck’s sake, Nick wants to provide Mesh with precisely one million orgasms. Mesh laughed when Nick said this the first time, but that’s still…. not no. They’ve got time yet.)

Nick puts down the bottle of lube, and looks down, fresh-eyed. There’s the gorgeous soft skin of Mesh’s thighs, and the softer, almost translucent ruddiness of his bollocks, his taint underneath shiny and wet with lube. The jut of his muscular hips, the sweet rich scent of him arousing something primal in Nick’s lizard brain. And, of course, his flushed cock, resting patient against his thigh in a smear of wet precome.

The whole bloody thing makes Nick want to write a sonnet.

But he’s no poet, even at the _height_ of pub-drunk arrogance, so all he can do is reach down, shaky hands steadying as he runs his hand over Mesh’s body. Just the tips of his fingers over the smooth expanses and the wrinkly bits and faded freckles. It’s all beautiful, is what it is.

Mesh squirms, letting out a wordless, desperate whine. Mesh grabs Nick’s fingers, the same fingers that’d been inside him moments ago, stilling his hand.

“Come on,” he says softly. “I want you.”

Those three little words are enough to take Nick’s breath away. What _he_ wants to do is go into a tailspin. But what he does is say, “Why? You’ve got another social engagement?”

“No…” Mesh says, cheeky, the corners of his mouth turning up. “But it would be nice.”

Nick softens, his belly fluttering. “I could do, yeah.”

Nick adds some more lube for good measure before kneeling back between Mesh’s legs, his hand hooked in the bend of Mesh’s knee for stability. He rubs his cock against Mesh’s hole, and feels his breath stutter at how close he is. How close they are.

“Big breaths,” Nick says, reminding them both.

Nick looks down at Mesh sprawled out before him, easy and open and so trusting. Ready for everything Nick would like to give him.

(The secret is, Nick would like to give him absolutely everything.)

There’s some tension at first as Nick eases in, centimetre by centimetre. Mesh’s slick warmth enveloping his cock is so gorgeous, it’s hard to focus. But Nick just wants to do right by him, and he’s determined to.

“Fuck,” Nick breathes, his grasp tightening on Mesh’s leg. The throbbing of his cock is amplified now, the sensation increased tenfold.

“Yeah,” Mesh breathes back, his lush lips parted. There’s sweat in the hollow of his throat, dampness shiny against the jut of his collarbone.

Nick shifts forward a bit more, feeling Mesh’s arsehole strain around his cock, easing open for him. Mesh’s stomach rises and falls with his tight breaths.

“You good?” Nick asks.

“Yeah,” Mesh says, nodding.

Nick thrusts a little deeper, his thighs trembling with the effort of restraining himself. The tight warmth and friction is fucking _wonderful._ It’ll be even better for both of them to find that rhythm, once they settle in.

Mesh has a hand on his cock, and Nick’s got the best seat in the house, watching him in awe as he touches himself, rubbing the head of his cock against his palm and squeezing on the upstroke. There it is again, that sonnet feeling, with Mesh laid out before him, with them pleasing each other in just the right way.

Something shifts in Mesh’s body. His soft little grunts sound more like huffs of frustration, and there’s this tension in his jaw and in his throat that wasn’t there before. His free hand isn’t on Nick anymore, it’s balled up beside him, not clutching the sheets in ecstasy. It feels like a very long time ago, in fact, that he was clutching the sheets in ecstasy.

Nick rolls his hips gently, still moving only about an inch in, poised for that magic moment, that moment where it all just glides, like a knife through soft butter. And they’re not there yet, and the tiny voice in Nick’s head is wondering if they’ll ever be. If there will ever be a magic moment.

See, here’s the thing.

Their hotel on the island is stunning, every amenity assured, and room service to rival La Gavroche’s five stars. The lamplight they have on is gorgeous and romantic, just enough of a glow to set the mood. The island is incredible, romance is in the air, potent as the ever-present gardenias. Nick’s been here a dozen times, but it’s magical to see it through Mesh’s eyes.

And the practicalities: they spent forty minutes getting all worked up before clothes even came off, and there’s so much lube, there’s a puddle from where it’s literally dribbling out from Mesh’s hole. Nick thought it was the perfect situation. A sexy utopia of sorts.

Everything was perfect. Is perfect. And yet.

“You’re making a face,” Nick says, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“No, I’m not.”

“You are. You’re all, like, scrunched up. Is something wrong?”

Mesh looks up at him, but it’s distant, seeing past him. His body freezes, not even a muscle twitching.

Nick’s stomach turns. Something is wrong and he doesn’t know how to mend it.

“Oh, love.” Nick tilts his head in sympathy. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

Mesh shakes his head, tight-lipped. Nick waits a moment, but Mesh doesn’t say anything.

Nick pulls out of him slowly, gently as he can, and peels the condom off. He ties it up and sets it aside in a tissue.

Mesh glances the crumpled tissue, and his lip curls with an unfamiliar disdain.

“I didn’t say stop. That wasn’t what I said.”

“Yeah, but.” Nick softens. “Your face did. Your body told me.”

Mesh is silent, arms crossed. Nick feels only sympathy for him, only patience.

Nick curls up next to Mesh. Mesh is laying stiffly, a far cry from the playful litheness of before; Nick doesn’t touch him, except where their arms and legs and torsos brush. He’s not much for a cuddle, but Mesh is, and he ought to be readily accessible, should Mesh need one.

And Nick, well, he waits. He’s not very good at waiting, but he’s gotten better at a lot of new things lately, like confidence. So he gives it his best go.

The moments tick by, and Nick just watches Mesh look at the vaulted ceiling. Mesh’s hands are in his lap, toying with his rings like he’s soothing himself. Their deep breathing syncs up, and it’s oddly comforting to at least have that connection.

Nick waits, and gradually, Mesh moves. He shifts up onto his elbows first, like this is important. He can’t meet Nick’s eyes.

“I’m nervous, I guess. About this kind of shagging.” Mesh bites his lip. “I’ve not done this a lot, and it’s usually just with people I really fancy. Like you.”

Nick’s eyes go wide. Mesh’s words hit him straight in the gut, like a sucker punch. A sucker punch of sweetness and adoration. He’s glad he’s not standing, because he would be collapsed on the floor, his knees giving out entirely.

“It’s not really felt good, either. I mean, it was alright, they were fine, and I liked it well enough, but.” Mesh sighs. “It’s never been what I expected or, I don’t know, hoped. What I hoped for. You know?”

Nick nods. “Yeah. I do know.”

Visions flood Nick’s head: visions of lazy shower sex with a man he genuinely loved. They could never agree on a proper standing position and the water would go cold in the middle of shagging, ending it all abruptly. Visions of unfamiliar blokes he’s pulled at clubs, them both six pints deep. All their fumblings were messy and in a strange bed, and even with the dull booze buzz, the burn of a dry fuck cut right through him, shocking his system completely. Visions of grimacing faces, harmed because of _him_ —going too fast, too deep, not checking. He still shudders, sometimes, to remember.

“I’m sorry.” Mesh shrugs his shoulders and curls into himself. His voice cracks. “I didn’t mean to muck it all up.”

“Oh, no.” Nick gasps. “You didn’t muck up anything. I promise. Fuck, _f_ —Come here, Mesh. Baby. Come here.”

Nick holds his arms out and Mesh moves into them, his chin hooking right over Nick’s shoulder. Nick holds him tight, stroking his back.

Nick says, “I don’t want to do anything you’re not one hundred and ten percent up for. Never ever.”

Nick feels Mesh nod against his shoulder; his chin digs right into the tender bit sorely, but Nick wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I fancy you quite a bit, and I want you to feel comfortable. One hundred and ten percent of the time.” Nick pauses. “You got me?”

Mesh nods again, harder against his shoulder, and it doesn’t hurt this time. It feels sweet, like a kiss on the cheek. He says, “Yeah. I got you.”

When they finally part, Mesh lays beside Nick, sharing the pillow with him again. He keeps his arm around Nick, keeping him close. He’s clinging to Nick, but there’s a storm on his face. His lips are pursed tightly, and there’s not a smile in his eyes.

Nick feels his own lips press together in a line, and he knows that Mesh needs more than this. More than reassurance. He debates for a moment before taking a leap of faith.

Nick says, “I get nervous all the time. Constantly.”

Nick waits for this to land. Mesh is quiet.

After a few seconds, Mesh says, “We all know that.”

“Really, though. More than what everybody knows,” Nick says, insistent. “Feel my hands. They’re freezing.”

Mesh grabs his hands, feeling the clammy coldness, and he laughs, surprised. “What the fuck?”

“See,” Nick says. “It’s for real.”

Mesh nods, serious this time, his face open and kind.

“I get shaky about things that are simple and easy for other people. And in _bed?_ Please. Cold sweats, anxiety off the charts. Quaking—legit quaking.”

Mesh is quiet for a second, and this time, it lands. Mesh bites his lip through a smile, and holds Nick tighter. He mumbles, “Shook, though? Are you shook?”

Nick smiles. “So shooketh, me. To my very core.”

Mesh laughs, a bright little giggle, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m shooketh over you, Nicholas.”

“I’m shooketh over you, too,” Nick says. “Dead shooketh.”

Mesh laughs again; his laugh mingles with Nick’s, bigger and brighter. They make each other bigger and brighter.

“We’re fucking romantic,” Mesh says, taking hold of Nick’s hand.

“Yeah,” Nick says softly. “We really, really are.”

**Author's Note:**

> it's not about the lamp. it's never just about the lamp. 
> 
> this was my own little sonnet to kind, patient lovers with open hearts and zero agendas. and my own little love letter to those awkward moments of shared intimacy, and what can happen if you're brave enough to lean in. 
> 
> send me love on tumblr, i'm all ears xx


End file.
